20 Best Bars in Rome

It's not just about getting a drink (or two, or...), it's also one of the best ways to see the city's neighborhoods.

Whether you’re looking for a cozy bar serving all-natural wines, or hope to slink into a speakeasy at 2 a.m., we’ve rounded up Rome’s finest places for a drink. Our list of Rome's best bars spans style, neighborhood, vibe, and specialty, so no matter how long your trip or where you are in the city, you're covered.

Like a low-key party in someone’s living room: bold, mismatched seating (including a set of very well lived-in armchairs), whitewashed walls with bookshelves built right in, wrought iron lamps swinging from an exposed-beam ceiling—the perfect antidote to Rome’s hectic city centre. Most nights, there's live music on the grand piano; and in winter there's a fireplace. You'll know the serious regulars because they'll be using the bar's loyalty card. The list of wines is ginormous; where cocktails are concerned, though, stick to the classics.

This is a proper, old-school wine shop, with bottles stacked high on the walls and only a couple of tables. But if you happen to come when it's empty, and owner Roberto's in a good mood, it can become your own private wine bar, complete with detailed recommendations and even some antipasti. The champagne selection is one of the best in Rome. And Roberto knows his stuff; he'll tell you the stories behind the wines as you sample them. Come as a guest, leave as a friend.

Rome’s craft beer headquarters. Purists will be thrilled—there are more brews here than you can count, all lined up on the brightly lit bar so you know exactly what you're ordering. The interior feels young, bright, and angular, with ochre walls covered in big, brightly-colored drawings. Grab one of the canary-yellow stools that line the marble bar and grok the rambunctious chalkboard to get caught up on the day's best beers. The food—mostly burgers—is impressive, varied, and often delightfully wacky.

Don’t let the graffiti-scrawled exterior walls put you off—Ma Che Siete Venuti a Fa is all about that lived-in-look charm. Inside, it’s a classic beer-forward pub with big brass taps, a chalkboard menu, chipped wooden bar stools, and a bubbling crowd. The atmosphere’s always buzzy, and the well-placed colorful armchairs and sofas will soften your landing in the rare event it’s too cold to spill onto the pavement outside. Solid mix of Italian, European, and US beers; try the Salty Kiss in summer, or the Brighella when it's cool.

The overachieving cheese display brings 'em in, but the checkered tiles, marble counter, and open balcony keep 'em. And the wines, of course. 'Gusto manages to be breezy and cozy at the same time, thanks to a design sensibility that leans on anachronism and a firm, but not weighty, sense of place. There's an impressive wine cellar upstairs, and if you're in a snacking mood, try one of the salumi or cheese plates. Staff can be slow, but they know their wines.

Think of this as your classic beer-and-pizza tavern cranked up a couple notches, both in quality and in devotion. Beer’s a bit of a religion here—if the shrine-like glass wall holding the brew works didn’t clue you in, the beer-based-cocktail menu would; but it’s practiced with charm and whimsy. Of the twenty craft brews on tap, half are the Borgo’s own. The beer tasting menu’s a great way in, though more intrepid souls can certainly travel shot-by-shot on their own. The team isn’t afraid to experiment. The food—pizza; pasta that's as pretty to look at as it is tasty; and burrata-and-Parma-ham toasties—stands up nicely to the drinks.

Quite possibly Rome's coolest bar—a moody, late-night speakeasy that's a mash up of bare-brick walls and exposed pipes and your granny's florid armchair beside frilly white doilies covered in old candle wax. The cocktails are even served in what looks like your gran's old crystal wear; but that's where the similarities end. The crowd is half of why you come, and the staff are every bit as suave as the clientele—expect waistcoats and goatees, but none of the usual attitude.

One of Rome's best kept secrets—you'll need a password to get in. Inside, it's speakeasy style; the lighting is low and the walls are stripped back. Grab a spot at the white-tiled bar or on one of the leather chesterfields and appreciate the quirky details. The knockout feature is the garden out back—all 200 square meters of it, complete with its own Alice-in-Wonderland-style labyrinth. Grab a table if you can. The cocktails are excellent and the kitchen puts out some nice, if standard, bar bites.

A beer hall that perfectly toes the line between cool and grungy. The program is unique craft beers from small breweries and there’s always an interesting lineup. They're wide-ranging when it comes to style and flavor profile; check the blackboard for details, or ask for a rec—the staff are real gems. They'll happily give you tastings if you don’t know what to order. When it comes to eats, burgers are their thing.

Just the right balance between whimsy and care. The dining room's fresh and bright, with baby-blue- and cream-tiled flooring, big windows, and pale gray chairs paired to tables that might have been raided from the hippest flea market in town. Plump legs of cured ham hang from the white-tiled walls and the counter's stacked with home-cured jars of pickles and slabs of cheese. Small anachronistic details—an array of vintage clocks on one wall, a meat slicer that looks like it's been in service since WWII—anchor the place in tradition. The all-natural and biodynamic selection stands out.

Bar del Fico is what you might call "approachably hip." The entrance is an unassuming door on a charming cobblestoned passage near Piazza Navona. Head back to the "salotto del fico," where potted trees fill every corner and mismatched chairs crowd bar tables topped by chess boards. It's an ice-cold-martini kind of place; the bartenders are, unsurprisingly, masters of their craft. Come aperitivo time, there’s a generous spread of potato chips, olives, and other small bites. Bring your intellectual chat and your dancing shoes for the DJ set later on.

Great place to take a breather while in Trastevere. Playful wall art overlooks an eclectic jumble of furniture, including homey armchairs and beer kegs that double as stools. There's a grand piano fervently scrawled with messages from patrons. Daisies in jam jars brighten the tables. Tattooed students and skate punks share tables with dressy young professionals. They’re all here for the cocktails, which are colorful and fun, and for the vegetarian buffet that comes out at aperitivo hour.

The Prohibition-era style here fits hipster-friendly Monti perfectly. So does its underground location, slate gray walls, and vintage sofas beneath low archways. We even like the lampshades balanced on stacks of old magazines, and the sepia photos that jostle for space with a second-hand bookshelf—where you’ll find, by the way, everything from Hemingway to Marx to Franzen. We've never seen Apt not jammed with millennials downing the bar's discombobulatingly strong cocktails (served in jam jars, no less) over a 1930s swing soundtrack.

This may be the most bohemian speakeasy we've ever been to—dark and moody with unfinished walls and exposed pipes, jazz in the background, candles on the tables, books on the walls and big Brompton armchairs to read them in. When it comes to the cocktails, Club Derrière sidesteps the speakeasy classics in favor of some clever—and very modern-feeling—combinations. The staff's great as long as you follow the rules, which include passwords and a ban on Instagramming.

A rotating scheme of art on the walls; living-room-worthy chairs; racked magazines and vinyl records; best of all, beautiful hand-muddled cocktails—this hole-in-the-wall bar across from Hadrian's Temple checks many boxes. Settle into those plush chairs and let the cool soundtrack own you. Or better still, linger out front on the Piazza di Petra, where the temple's columns loom spectacularly at night. The bartenders are good; trust them to magic up even the most complicated cocktail.

The most welcoming wine bar ever. It may be small, but the atmosphere’s happy, bustling, and warm—due in part, no doubt, to the wooden booths and the wine bottles that cover every wall. True genius shows in summer, when the owners fling the front doors open and set about ten more tables on the terrace – adding people-watching and sun-soaking to your already near-perfect drinking. Solid menu of cheeses and cured meats, too.

The walls of this neighborhood bar in Trastevere are dense with history. Inside it’s all low benches and dim lighting, walls jumbled with bottles, photos, hand-scrawled fragments. Summer's when it comes to life. Plastic chairs appear out front and the locals gather to fill them, sipping glasses of wine or cocktails. The low-key, friendly staff drop the welcome mat without prejudice. But the real star here is the mojito, which may be the closest you'll come to Havana in Rome.

It's hard to know when, or whether, the gents behind Jerry Thomas Speakeasy veer into self-parody; but it hardly matters. Theatricality's the appeal. The room's small and smoky, the decor's 1920's Prohibition-era chic (floral wallpaper, tasseled lamps, velvet couches). The bartenders (who, according to the posted "rules," are "always right") wear period gear, and as often as not you'll find a '20-era jazz combo playing. The one thing they're deadly serious about are the drinks, which is why it's not surprising to find JTS on the World's 50 Best Bars list.

Imagine if hundreds of the most drinkable bottles of wine moved into your living room and threw a nonstop party. Sometimes the party's loud and fizzy, sometimes it slows to a brooding ooze; but it always feels like home. That's Il Goccetto. Small, warm like an embrace, decorated in a way that suggests it just can't be bothered with time, and above all, loaded floor to ceiling with wine. In winter it'll feel like a refuge; in summer it'll spill onto the sidewalk, over Vespas and between the bumpers of cars. More than 850 wines, plus it's the undisputed king of bar eats.